An Uncle's Journey
by WizMonCruWil
Summary: 17-year-old Rose Weasley has been assigned to interview a famous wizard for her History of Magic final. She thinks she is lucky when her subject is Uncle Harry. Come along as Rose is taken on a journey of discovery, learning about the man who would become her uncle, his love for her parents, and confronting the dark secrets about their family's past...
1. Chapter 1: Seventh Year Assignment

**Chapter 1: Seventh Year Assignment**

Rose Weasley waited patiently at her desk, eyeing History of Magic Professor Dean Thomas as he patrolled around the classroom. In his right hand, he held a black hat. At first inspection, the article of clothing was old - a Muggle top hat, which Rose had remembered seeing on a figure in a Muggle history book she read as a child.

Every seventh year at Hogwarts was required to conduct a full biographical report on a famous witch or wizard from history. The project was one of the most daunting undertakings in a Hogwarts student's career: not only did it determine whether one passed the History of Magic course for the final term, it also served as the student's N.E.W.T. examination.

"Miss Weasley?" Professor Thomas smiled kindly down at her as Rose reached a hand in. She didn't really care who she was assigned - ever the quintessential student, she would attack the project with gusto. At last, she plucked out a piece of parchment and unfolded it:

 _Harry Potter_.

Rose stared. Not only was Harry Potter the most sought-after subject for a project like this, he was also... her uncle. And godfather. Her parents' best friend. The hero of their entire nation. She had never heard of any seventh years before her being lucky enough to profile him. Rose raised her eyes to her professor, who maintained his kind smile.

"Harry's a good mate," he told her. "Made a deal with him a while ago to only give out his name once."

Rose's brow furrowed. "You made sure I would pick him, didn't you?"

Dean winked. "Better you than some starry-eyed stranger." Dealing out the last few scraps of parchment, he announced, "For those of you with a living subject, you are expected to conduct an in-person interview. Otherwise, research from those who knew the deceased subject will suffice. Dismissed, seventh years."

There was a clamor as students rushed for their bags, congregated together to compare subjects on their way out the door.

"Oi, what do you say, Rosie?" The green-eyed boy called as he fell in step beside her.

Rose smiled. If there was one person who might have an even better claim on interviewing Harry Potter, it would be his own son. Albus Potter was her favorite cousin. They were born only months apart, had played together in the same crib (Rose had seen the pictures). Gone up through school together.

"Who did you get, Al?" she preemptively asked.

"Elphias Doge," Albus grumbled. "Been dead for years. But I think my dad knew him. I'll probably start an angle that way. You?"

Rose half-smiled, half-grimaced. "Your dad."

Albus nearly walked into a wall. "My... dad?"

"No, the Minister for Magic," Rose deadpanned.

"Also known as your mum," Albus grinned. She hit him on the arm.

"Professor Thomas told me he pretty much rigged it so I would pick him. Can't imagine why. If anyone should do it, it should be you."

Albus shrugged. "I don't know. Ever since the Incident..." Rose winced. She remembered the Time Turner fiasco from several years ago. "We've gotten better. Hard to know if something like this might muck it up again."

"Muck what up again?" A blond head of hair appeared, slid his palm into Al's in greeting before bending and kissing Rose on the mouth. Rose smirked up at her boyfriend, Scorpius Malfoy. When the best mate of her cousin had first asked her out, she had accepted mostly out of curiosity. But he had charmed her. Embarking on a relationship had been scary and new, but Scorpius was kind. Not at all like his ancestors. Putting a gentle arm around her, Scorpius glanced at the parchment.

"Lucky!" he gawped. "I've never heard of a seventh year getting to profile your dad, Al!"

"Albus got Elphias Doge," Rose reported before Albus could.

"Meh," Scorpius shrugged. "There's enough information on him; you'll do all right."

"What about you, mate?" Al inquired.

"Dunno. I'll find out next period." He nuzzled his nose into his girlfriend's red hair. "When are you gonna sit down with him? Your uncle, I mean."

"I thought I might start tonight, over at his place. He has his own study." She bit her lip. "Uncle Harry's a very private person. Best to meet him on his own turf."

Al nodded. "A wise decision. Maybe best to stay with your parents tonight, eh? Then start fresh in the morning."

"Great." Rose beamed. "I'll make it back for you lot's match against Hufflepuff, I promise."

"I have no doubt you will," Scorpius grinned. The bell tower chimed and he gave her a fierce kiss, drumming his fingers along her porcelain cheek. "Gotta dash. Give Mr. Potter my best. I love you!"

"Love you," Rose giggled back. Being done with classes for the day, she decided that she would walk beyond the grounds before Disapparating.

* * *

Rose appeared in front of the Potters' front gate. The latch squeaked as she pushed her way in, and she marched across the pristine yard and knocked on the front door. A woman who bore a quite similar resemblance to herself answered.

"Rosie, my darling! What a wonderful surprise!" Aunt Ginny wrapped her niece in a hug. "When did you get here?"

"Just now," Rose smiled. "Auntie, have you seen Uncle Harry?"

"Yes, dear, he's in his study. Worked from home today. Go on up, and I'll put the kettle on!"

"I'm all right, Aunt Ginny, but thank you." Rose took the steps two at a time, before approaching a large oak door and quietly knocking.

"It's open!" a voice called from within.

Rose creakily nudged the door aside. Her uncle and godfather was at his desk, perusing over papers. His glasses were pushed down to the bridge of his nose - the telltale sign that he was working. Though wrinkles were beginning to set into his face, Rose could not deny that Uncle Harry was handsome. Her favorite picture of him sat on her parents' dresser, of the three of them laughing at her Mummy and Daddy's wedding. Her mother, the picture of the blushing bride, her father looking jovially smug and proud as a peacock, and Uncle Harry, trying to strike a bad boy pose and failing. His boyish, ecstatic grin always gave him away.

The grin that her uncle gave her now, as he lowered his papers and circled the desk. "Rosie, my dear! What are you doing here?"

"To see you," Rose grinned. She held out the piece of parchment to him. "I... I was assigned to profile you. For my History of Magic N.E.W.T."

Harry's brow furrowed, even as he gave an amused grin of recognition. "Ah, I remember that assignment. James got paired with Gwenog Jones last year - got an exclusive interview with her, thanks to Ginny's Quidditch connections. Even then, he barely passed!"

Rose giggled. "Al's doing Elphias Doge."

"Hmm," Harry murmured in acknowledgement, putting his feet up on his desk. "And that boyfriend of yours?"

Rose blushed. Her relationship with Scorpius Malfoy had caused quite a stir in the family, especially amongst her parents. Her father was furious, and barely tolerated Scorpius. Though she didn't understand why, Rose was trying to be patient and let the interactions run their course. It had to get better soon... it helped that Harry was so understanding of the boy, on account that he was his youngest son's best friend. "Dunno. I'll find out when I return to the castle."

"Well, it's good to see you, kiddo!" Harry beamed that rare, special smile just for her. "I'd be happy to interview with you. Better you than some stranger."

"You know, that's just what Professor Thomas said. But all the same, thanks for squeezing me in."

"Oh..." he waved his hand away. "Always time for you."

"So: Aunt Ginny said you were working from home today."

"Yes, the Cave!" Harry laughed. "Ginny refers to it as denning."

"Well... it looks good on you. New suit, sitting behind that desk..."

"Knife to the heart, kid, knife to the heart," Harry parried back dryly with a smirk. Rose knew from her mother that it hadn't been easy for him, scaling back his Auror duties, even as its Department Head. But Aunt Ginny had wanted him safe - hell, Rose's mum had wanted him safe - from the most dangerous missions. He could pretend, but Uncle Harry had been more than a little wounded when her father had once told him flat-out, "Mate, you're getting too old for this shit!"

Rose now transitioned, getting right down to business. "I've been asked to do a biography on you, so I was hoping to start at the beginning. What was your childhood like?"

Her uncle paused. Stiffened for a moment. Intuitively, Rose deciphered that her uncle's childhood had been less than happy. She brushed away her concern, determining to probe it later. "Uncle Harry..." she said gently. "We don't have to start with that. We could... well..." she tripped over her words. She could never explain it, but something about being in his presence had always made her feel uncharacteristically less than confident. Especially when he got that look in his eyes - that look that told her he was far, far away, in the recesses of his traumatic, jarring past. "I actually had a question."

Harry's eyes swiveled back in her direction, the brooding, haunted look in them gone.

"I know how you and Mummy and Daddy all became friends. But... how did you all become... family?"

Harry smiled. "A wonderful question. Come with me." He gave a jerk of his head, and Rose followed his uncle over to a closet at the other end of the study. Opening the lacquered pine doors, a giant bowl of water came sliding out of the closet.

Rose gaped. "You own a Pensieve? But they're rare... extremely!"

Harry's eyes twinkled. "It didn't used to be mine. It was... left to me." Procuring his wand, he drew a silvery strand from his graying hair and placed it into the Pensieve. He held out a hand. "Ready?"

Rose nodded. Then uncle and niece dove into the Pensieve.


	2. Chapter 2: FLASHBACK - A Nice Distractio

**Chapter 2: Flashback - A Nice Distraction?**

17-year-old Harry Potter flipped the Quaffle to Bill Weasley, as he and the Weasley family played 4-person Quidditch in the apple orchard by the Burrow.

"Time out, time out!" Harry called, suddenly feeling winded. And besides, he needed to use the loo.

Arthur Weasley blew his whistle from down below and Harry steered his broom down the Earth. His new Firebolt over his shoulder (to replace the one he lost in the war), Harry sauntered past the broom shed and to the house. Just inside the kitchen, he found Hermione Granger, fixing some lunch. His best friend had never enjoyed flying, and readily professed that she was rubbish at it - a sentiment that bothered Ron Weasley, much to Harry's amusement. Ron would never admit that his new girlfriend was rubbish at anything.

She certainly was better at singing than she was at flying, the sunlight from outside glistening on her creamy skin as she flitted about the sink:

 _"Skip, skipped the ladies to the master's gate; sip, sipped the ladies while the master ate. Tiptoed the chambermaids and stole their pearls; Snip, snipped the gardener..._ Oh, hi, Harry!" as she spotted him leaning against the door frame, the broom over his shoulder.

Harry chuckled. "Don't let Ron catch you singing like that. Then he'll want a lullaby every night. Never mind that he's already sharing a room with me!" That wasn't entirely true, the roommate situation. In these first few months since the war, Ron had spent more time in Hermione's room than his own. And sometimes, the new couple had kicked Harry out of Ron's room, forcing the Chosen One to sleep on the sitting room couch. Harry didn't mind. His best mates were happy, happier than he had seen them in a long time. Aside from Hermione recently developing some kind of stomach bug, the Golden Trio had nothing to complain about. The crippling ache of Fred's loss was just beginning to dull. Slowly but surely, Molly - the family matriarch - was taking an active approach to life again, sharing the housework with Ginny, Hermione and Fleur.

Hermione just trilled out a laugh, as she transferred a pan of potatoes to the oven. "He wouldn't want me singing for him, believe me."

"Oh yes, he would. Two months after the war, we all have something to sing about. Don't mind me, I just gotta use the loo." He made to shuffle past her, but Hermione's hand on his arm stopped him.

"Harry, wait!"

He turned, so that they were both leaning against the sink, facing each other. Hermione all at once seemed nervous, wringing her hands so that she mangled a dish towel between her fingers. But when she raised her eyes to his, she was smiling. "I'm actually glad you came in. I have a surprise for you."

"Oh, do you now?" Harry chuckled. He and Hermione had their own version of teasing each other - certainly not the flirtatious kind of Ron and Hermione, but a brotherly-sisterly banter all their own. It was a special kind of love they shared - different, but special nonetheless.

Seemingly encouraged by this, Hermione took Harry's hand and looked up into his face. "I've been sick recently, and I did a spell this morning... I just found out..." She beamed. "I'm pregnant." The last came out in a whisper.

 **Watching from the present, Rose's jaw dropped. That wasn't possible... if this was only two months after the war, mid 1998... then her mummy couldn't be pregnant with her.** **Beside her, older Harry side-eyed his niece, watching her reaction, but said nothing.**

Young Harry, on the other hand, looked entirely unreadable. Hermione's ecstatic smile dimmed slightly but did not disappear entirely, as she searched his eyes. "Say something!"

Harry was suddenly balling his hands into fists. His piercing green eyes flashed, and his jaw clenched. Finally:

"I'm going to _murder_ him."

The loo entirely forgotten, Harry aimed to stalk back out of the house. Hermione danced around the table to intercept him. "Harry, _don't_!" she squeaked. "Ron doesn't know yet; I haven't figured out a way to tell him..."

Harry wheeled around, rage bubbling on every one of his features. "He told me... almost a year ago... not to mess around with his sister. Well, he better get the bloody hell ready for that to get thrown back in his face, to take his own advice! Because now, he's messing with _my_ sister!"

Hermione gasped, just staring at him. Then her eyes filled with tears, and for the first time since her announcement, Harry's features softened. "Hermione? I'm sorry, I..."

"Oh, Harry!" Tears splashed down her front. "I love you too! You're such a sweetie!" And she flung herself, sobbing, into his arms. Harry just held her and let her cry; by now, it was old hat. There were nights - too many nights - where this had been his job, in the tent. But he didn't want to think about that time.

It took a few moments for Hermione's sobs to turn into hiccups and sniffles. She gave a watery smile against his jumper. "Sorry."

"Never apologize for something like that, little sister."

Harry felt her smile. "Keep calling me that."

"What, _little sister_?" Harry rumbled.

"Mm-hmm." She stepped out of his embrace and smoothed herself out. "Please don't be angry with Ron. And don't tell him, not yet. I'm going to tell him and the family tonight. But... I just couldn't keep it inside anymore, and I had to confide in _someone_."

Harry nodded. "You have my word." And he kissed her on the forehead. "And I'll bet you gnomes to Galleons that you'll be an _amazing_ mother." He noted, but didn't comment on, the way that Hermione's hands were drumming over her abdomen.

Harry finally emerged from the Burrow in a daze. He was going to be an uncle.

* * *

The sun was setting over the apple orchard as from Ron's window, Harry and Hermione watched the Weasleys troop back towards the Burrow. Harry laid a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"I'll give you some space when he gets here." A few minutes later, Ron came bounding in, sweaty and victorious.

"Evening, love!" And pulling Hermione to him, he gave her a deep kiss. Hermione smiled into his lips and kissed back. Harry watched with an easy grin. He was used to their public displays of affection by now. Breaking the kiss at last, Ron prattled, "Did you see me? Did you see this tosser get evicted from the game? Harry Potter fouling out of Quidditch! Never thought I'd see the day!"

Harry scowled without any malice. "That last strike was _your_ fault."

"Not according to Dad," Ron sing-songed. He turned back around to see Harry backing out of the doorway, a grin on his face. "Oi! Where are you going?"

"Hermione has something to tell you," Harry smirked, closing the door behind him. He waited on the landing.

Five seconds passed. Then ten. At thirty-five seconds, Harry opened the door a crack to find Ron spinning Hermione around in his arms. And then he was kissing her, desperately, running his hands along her belly with wonder.

"Is it a boy or a girl?" And Ron sounded like a child himself, waiting for Christmas.

"Wait and see," Hermione giggled.

"It'll be bloody brilliant, just like you! I want it to look just like you! I... I love you."

Hermione beamed. "I love you back."

* * *

Molly Weasley looked utterly stricken when the fateful two words left her likely future daughter-in-law's lips.

"I... I _forbid_ it!" she squeaked.

Everyone's jaws hit the floor, even as Arthur laid a calming hand over his wife's. "Molly..."

"They're... they're _eighteen_!" the Weasley matriarch whimpered, staggering out of her seat where the Weasley clan was hob knobbing around the dinner table. "Children themselves!"

"We're of age, Mum," Ron informed her quietly, one arm around his girlfriend, the other stroking her barely perceptible baby bump. "Here and in the Muggle world."

"But you're not married!" Molly wailed.

"No. But we will be," Ron promised. Beside him, Hermione spun to face him, eyes shining with her heart in them. Ron gave her a wink.

Molly scoffed. "I should think so! When you get pregnant, you get married! A child deserves a mother and a father! That's what I was taught, and what I thought I taught all of you!"

Ginny groaned as her head hit the table. "Uggh, yes, we _know_ , Mum!"

Molly suddenly rounded on Harry. "Harry, dear, what do you think about this?"

Harry frowned, as he leaned back in his chair on two legs. "Why should it matter what I think? They're having a baby, they're having a baby. I get to be an uncle in the bargain!" Ron and Hermione beamed at him. Even as Molly huffed; evidently, she had been hoping for her likely future son-in-law to back her up. But Harry had to be proud of himself, how quickly he had come around to the idea of his best mates having a child.

Bill, who had always made the best peace, tried to steer the conversation in a more rational direction. "All right, let's just try and keep this in perspective..."

" _Perspective_?" batted away Charlie. "This news is _perfect_!" And he didn't sound sarcastic.

Harry wheeled around to the dragon-keeping Weasley in surprise. Of all the reactions he had expected to come from Ron and Hermione's happy news, he hadn't expected that one. But as much as Harry looked shocked by Charlie's apparently ringing endorsement, George looked downright murderous. Indeed, the surviving twin sprang to his full height and pointed between Ron and Hermione.

"I see how it is. You're trying to replace me with the little brat! Replace Fred!"

"Oi!" Ron leapt to his feet protectively and made a furious move towards his brother. Acting with more force than was strictly necessary, Harry too rushed out of his seat and pushed Ron up against the wall.

"Don't be bloody _stupid_. And George..." He swiveled his head to glare at the surviving twin, even as he kept Ron firmly pinned to the wall with one elbow. "No one is trying to replace you or Fred or _anybody_! Charlie didn't mean any such thing!"

George folded his arms. "He implied it."

"Did not! I'm just saying..." Charlie fished around. "A baby might be a nice... distraction."

If he hadn't been glued to Ron, Harry would have done a face palm. "Charlie, could you for once in your life shut up while you're ahead?" He repeated his earlier statement, more calmly. "George... Ron and Hermione are not trying to replace Fred with the baby. For all we can tell, the baby was conceived even before Fred died!"

Percy cocked his head inquisitively. "How do you figure that?"

Silence. And even though it was unintentionally unprompted by Harry, all eyes eventually looked to Ron. Harry held his best mate's gaze evenly. This was Ron and Hermione's story to tell, and Ron and Hermione's alone.

Ron awkwardly cleared his throat. "We were at Shell Cottage," he began. "I never left Hermione's room. After she woke up, we spent almost all of our time together. That... that was the first time I told her I loved her." He smiled at her in a lovesick way, and Hermione shyly grinned back. "The first time we kissed... I guess we both realized that we didn't want to waste time anymore, so one night, we..." He turned as red as his hair.

Hermione took his hand, rubbing his knuckles with her thumb. "I'm not sorry," she murmured.

A long pause.

" _Did you hurt her_?" Harry was as stunned as everyone to realize that the growling inquiry had come from him. He hadn't realized that this was the story Ron would tell. Regrettably, Harry hadn't been there when Hermione woke up from Malfoy Manor, and even after had rarely ventured into her room. He had been busy, digging Dobby's grave, talking to the goblin, and trying to plan his next move. Besides, he had trusted Ron to be there for her. Or at least, he thought he could.

"No!" Hermione squeaked, turning to her best friend. "He was very good to me, Harry, a perfect gentleman."

Harry snorted, rounding on his best mate and practically brother. "Don't you have any sense at all? Hermione's a lot smaller than you! She was still fragile and weak... you could have crushed her!"

"He didn't," Hermione whispered soothingly, taking Ron's hand. "I've never felt more loved in my life."

Harry's features softened and he nodded once to Hermione in understanding. All of the tension in the room seemed to dissipate in that moment, the final blow coming when Ginny circled the table to embrace her brother's girlfriend.

"Congratulations!" she squealed.

"Yes, congratulations," Harry smiled, pecking Hermione's cheek.

* * *

It was a few nights later when Hermione's screams woke the whole house.

Up alone in his and Ron's room, Harry went thundering down the stairs, meeting Ginny on the landing before they dashed to Hermione's bedroom. Hermione was sitting up in bed, wailing in pain, as Ron held her in a desperate attempt to soothe her. Harry skidded to a halt upon seeing all the sheets were covered in blood.

"What's wrong with her?" Ron moaned, barely keeping himself away from panic. "The baby!"

Bill, Fleur, Charlie, Percy, George, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley soon crammed into the room.

"Ron, bring Hermione to the bathtub, quick!" Arthur ordered. "Harry and Ginny, the sheets!"

Harry and Ginny stripped the bed before charging for the bathroom. Hermione was laying in a drawn bath, weeping and wailing, Ron holding her. Arthur and the men were standing around the tub, while Molly and Fleur clung to one another in fear.

Ginny spotted the blood rapidly staining the bathwater and choked. "I think I'm gonna be sick..."

"Please don't be sick," Harry begged.

"Try and stop me!" she snarled.

Harry forced his girlfriend to her knees and flipped the toilet seat up. "Then you'd better go in this."

Ginny didn't need to be told twice. Hermione was wailing, "Save it! Save it! SAVE MY BABY!"

"All right, my boys, hold her steady..." Arthur coached his sons. "I can... see it crowning..."

The still-developing, dead fetus was expunged from Hermione's womb, a torrent of blood and gore right along with it.

Ginny raised her head from the rim of the toilet bowl, took one look at the contents of the tub, and promptly threw up again.

Harry couldn't bear to look in the tub. He couldn't bear to look at anybody. All he could see was Hermione's face, scrunched up in pain, tears streaming down her cheeks, and flash back to another horrible night like this.

No more. He wished to see no more! Just when everything was starting to feel good again! Would it ever be over? Turning, he sprang from the room, throwing open the door so hard, that it slammed into the opposite wall and swung itself closed again.

Harry tore down flight after flight of stairs before anyone could stop him, not even heeding the clatter of feet behind as someone pursued him. He dashed through the kitchen and threw himself into the yard, hurling into a full-blown pelt, the lights of the house at his back and Ginny's voice screaming at him. "Harry? HARRY!"

But he was running. _Running_...


	3. Chapter 3: FLASHBACK - Murderer

**Chapter 3: Flashback - Murderer**

He crossed the front yard in seconds, only seeing the deep, inviting darkness straight ahead. With one bound, he cleared the garden gate, looking like a track star too much for his liking, but he didn't stop. His trainers caught purchase on the grass and dirt as he landed, but soon, it felt as though his feet weren't touching the ground at all. He was flying without a broom, faster and faster, the lukewarm July air steaming the gathering tears of anguish off his cheeks. He was clear across the orchard now, rapidly reaching beyond the dominion of the Weasleys' property, mad and wracked with grief. A name popped into his head unbidden against the scattering torrent of his thoughts, and he held onto it, like a deed written in blood.

Turning on the spot, Harry Disapparated, the inertia of his sprint nearly sending him into the dirt.

He landed hard on his bum in a clearing surrounded by trees, and right away he recognized the place. He was in the Forbidden Forest. Struggling to his feet, he raised his wand, willing a glow to emanate from the tip.

" _Accio_ Resurrection Stone!"

A pause, as the wildlife and flora and fauna all lay still. Then, a tiny stone floated into the glow of Harry's wand; reaching out his free palm, Harry took it and let it rest there. The stone waited for its master's command. The Master of the Deathly Hallows.

"BELLATRIX!" Harry bellowed into the night. "Get out here; I want a word!"

He screamed it without even considering whether the Stone worked that way. Last he'd been here with it in his possession, the spectres of Sirius, Remus and his parents had appeared unbidden. But a master must have someone yield to his every command. So was it now, as a white ghost appeared within the light of Harry's wand.

"He wants a word with me!" Bellatrix Lestrange's voice was gratingly high-pitched, her lips trembling mockingly, and Harry was reminded of the first time they met, in the Department of Mysteries. "Itty, bitty, baby... Potter..." she sneered.

Harry held his ground, seething, sadistically rejoicing in the reminder that Bellatrix Lestrange was dead, and regretting that he had not been the one to kill her himself. "What did you do? What did you _do_ to her?"

Bellatrix at least had the decency to know whom he was referring to. "It's punishment enough. The filthy MUDBLOOD trying to have little mudblood babies!"

 _Half-bloods_ , Harry thought, his teeth bared.

"And who is responsible for that?" Bellatrix demanded.

Her words were like Expelliarmus with how much they disarmed him. Harry played back that spring night once again in his head, as he had done most evenings for the past three months. He stepped forward, accepting the responsibility, as he calmly replied, "I am."

"See?" Bellatrix screeched to some invisible audience. "He admits it! _Murderer_!"

"No!" Harry pleaded as the pair, human and dark spirit, began to earnestly circle each other. "It was an _accident_!"

"If it weren't for you, Hermione Granger would be healthy and her baby would still be alive! It's _your_ fault it's dead! Do you know deny it?"

Harry met her gaze squarely. "No," he snarled in a whisper.

"Then... you're _guilty_!"

"No, I'm _not_ a _murderer_!"

"Oh, Potter, you're in trouble again." Bellatrix purred as she backed him into a tree trunk. "But this time, Mummy isn't here to save you. And now everyone knows who you are!"

"NOOOO!" Harry threw the Resurrection Stone away. There was a flash of white light as the apparition of Bellatrix disappeared. Harry sank to his knees, head in his arms, and drowned himself on his own tears.

* * *

It was deep night, all the windows of the house lying dark, except for those in the kitchen. He had scarcely had the energy to Apparate back here. Harry staggered into the light emanating from the front door, Ginny in her nightgown casting a long shadow over the lawn. She ran into his arms.

"There you are! Where have you been?"

Harry shook his head, exhausted. "Just get me inside, Gin..." He leaned on her as they stumbled towards the doorway and he collapsed into a chair. He barely registered the cup of tea placed in front of him. Ginny sat down opposite him with a sigh, gathering a wrap around herself.

"Has there _ever_ been a worse night in this house?"

"It definitely makes the Top Five," Harry said bitterly.

Ginny nodded in agreement. "Ron and Hermione were a bit young to be parents. I don't know if it's for the best. Too early to tell. But I don't care what George says - a baby would have been a nice distraction."

Harry nodded mutely. A slight silence, and then: "How is she?"

"Asleep. Upstairs. Ron is with her."

Harry nodded. Leaving his tea untouched, he swayed to his feet and headed for the stairs.

The light from the landing drifted over the couple nestled together in the bed. Harry recognized his best mate as the form closest to the door.

"Psst! Mate! Can I have a word?"

A bleary-eyed Ron looked at him. "Yeah, sure." He moved to rise from the mattress, but a warm embrace kept him down.

"R...Ron? Don't go..." Hermione still looked asleep as she whined like a scared little child.

Ron kissed her lips tenderly. "Go back to sleep, love. Won't be a moment." He extracted himself from her and followed Harry out onto the landing.

Harry got right to the point. "Do you blame me for what happened with Bellatrix?"

Ron blinked in surprise, obviously not expecting the inquiry. "Well... I..."

"Answer the goddamn question, Ron." Harry was just turning away in disgust when he heard Ron's voice reply quietly:

"I used to."

He glanced back. "What do you mean, you _used_ to?"

Ron shuffled his feet awkwardly, staring down at his slippers. "Those first few days after... watching her in the bed... I would curse your name thinking that you had snatched something precious away from me. But Hermione is so kind and good, and she never seemed to blame you. So I thought, why should I?"

Harry nodded, satisfied. "I think... the miscarriage and the... the Manor... might be linked."

Ron's head snapped up to his, but Harry didn't elaborate, giving only a jerk of his head. "Go back in. She needs you."

 **"And I think," present-day Harry said. "That's enough for now." And Rose felt herself being lifted out of the memory.**


	4. Chapter 4: I Had A Brother

**Chapter 4: I Had a Brother**

Rose felt her palms hit the hardwood floor of her uncle's office. She had to blink, adjusting to the new light. Everything about Uncle Harry's study seemed to fall under her gaze anew, especially the man himself, as he wordlessly helped her to her feet.

Rose shook like a leaf. "I... I had a brother..."

"You had a _sibling_ ," Harry corrected. "We never did find out the sex of the baby before your mummy... lost it."

Rose shook her head, blinking back tears. "No. It... it was a boy. I saw the way Mummy was carrying herself in the memory. When I was little... I... I remember that was how she would... hold her tummy. When she was pregnant with Hugo..."

Harry raised an eyebrow at this revelation, but chose not to comment further, preferring instead to make a mental note and tell Hermione this revelation the next time he saw his sister-in-law. _Clever girl_ , he thought.

"That incident, horrible as it was, really bounded your parents and me. I knew from then on, we were family, and were going to protect each other as such."

This made Rose actually risk a weak smile. "You were going to beat up Daddy for Mummy." She thought it was cute.

Her uncle chuckled. "I would _not_ have beaten him up. Just... boxed him around the ears, is all."

Rose now eyed her uncle warily. "Uncle Harry?"

"Yes, Rosie?"

"Wh... what was that witch talking about? _'Punishment enough'_ and... and what you said about... a Manor. What happened to Mummy?"

Something flashed in Uncle Harry's eyes that she had never seen until just then: pain.

"We'll get to that," he murmured slowly.

Another nervous glance from his niece. "This is going to take more than one visit, isn't it?"

"Yes," Harry sighed heavily. "Go on now. Your aunt should have some tea on the table. Then you can get back to the castle."

Rose quietly, subdued, left the office, took that cup of tea from Aunt Ginny, and then ran all the way to her parents' home.


	5. Chapter 5: Battered

**Chapter 5: Battered**

Rose was much quieter when she appeared in her uncle's office the next morning. It was small comfort to realize that he was too.

"I thought today we might... see my childhood," Harry said slowly.

After what she had witnessed yesterday, Rose was extremely anxious as she stepped up to the Pensieve. She only hoped that these were happy memories as she and Uncle Harry dove beneath the surface.

She couldn't have been more wrong.

* * *

 **FLASHBACK**

The Harry before them could not have been more than eight or nine years old, as he struggled and slaved away at the counter-top of a fancy Muggle kitchen. A woman in a hairnet bustled inside and barked at him, "Don't let those potatoes burn!" She almost threw a hamper basket into his arms, Harry swaying a little as the force caught him in the chest. "And bring those upstairs to the wash!"

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," the boy said meekly, scurrying around her. The child Harry swung himself onto a stairway, which featured what looked like a cupboard built into the base. He was nearly to the top landing, when a giant, fat brute of a boy planted himself squarely in his way. Behind the leader stood three or four other boys.

"Where you think you're going, Potter?" the fat leader said.

Harry would not meet his gaze. "It's your laundry in this hamper, Dudley; I'm really not in the mood."

"Don't care. Cause we're in the bloody mood for some fun. Ain't we, mates?" And Dudley and his lackeys began to poke, prod and jostle Harry backwards, chanting what they thought was a cute little rhyme:

" _Pigs and cats, frogs and hares, Harry James Potter fell down the stairs! Pigs and cats, frogs and hares, Harry James Potter fell down the stairs!_ " With one last shove, Harry lost his balance and tumbled sickeningly down the stairs. The hamper of clothes went with him, socks and denim jeans and shirts burying him in a heap.

 **Rose could only stare agape. This little boy could** **not** **be her uncle. Not her strong, fearless Uncle Harry, who fought Dark wizards like he had a death wish. As the boyish version of her godfather struggled to his feet... only then did Rose finally see it, a flash of the man she knew:** there was guts. There was anger. Harry wanted to fight back. But for some reason, either he couldn't, or just didn't know how to.

At that moment, a Muggle man even bigger than Dudley appeared through the front door. "OI! What's all this then?" And his ire directed itself at young Harry. "What did you do, boy?"

And there was terror, pure terror in both versions of Harry's eyes. "I didn't do anything, Uncle Vernon!"

WHAM! The fist whirled so fast that it was barely seen, and Harry's entire head reeled, jerked back.

 **"OK. That's enough," and Uncle Harry was lifting Rose back out of the Pensieve.**

 **END OF FLASHBACK**

* * *

Uncle and niece hit the floor of the study hard. Rose curled into a ball, sobbing. She tried to rise after a moment, but her feet would initially not obey. She was shaking too hard in rage.

Uncle Harry would only meet her eyes sadly. "Rose," he murmured. "Rosie, listen to me. It's OK -"

"NO, IT'S BLOODY NOT!" she shrieked. "DON'T YOU DARE SAY THAT _THAT_ IS OK!" She began to weep. "They _abused_ you! Those are your relatives, right? The Muggles you lived with?"

Harry nodded grimly. "Yes, they are. And yes, they abused me. Until the time I was seventeen."

Rose buried her face in her hands, bawling like she used to when she was five or six and got a cut on her knee, and Mummy or Daddy or Uncle Harry would kiss it all better. Uncle Harry just pulled her into his arms and rocked her.

"Sssh... sssh... I'm safe now, Rose-Bud... I'd do it again too, knowing what I know now."

She hicupped into his blazer. "You don't mean that..."

"I _do_ mean it. I would live out that life again and again for you, and your mum, and your dad, and Aunt Ginny and Hugo and James and Al and Lily. Just as long as this life was waiting for me when I emerged from the other side."

"Oh, stop being so noble!" Rose wailed, beating on his muscular chest with her fists. "It's the one thing Mummy and Aunt Ginny hate about you! Why do you have to be such a noble _git_?"

Harry chuckled at her rambling. "Better me than one of you, Rosie. I wouldn't wish on anyone I loved that kind of upbringing." He let go of her, brushed her tears away and off with his thumb.

"I think we should stop for today. Go one home now. Your mummy probably has dinner waiting."

* * *

Rose was sitting cross-legged on her bed at home, writing out the first page of parchment for her report about her uncle. Her mother came bustling into the room at that moment, beaming.

"It's so nice to have you home for a bit, love. Throw in Hugo, and it would all be perfect!"

In that instant, Rose knew she would have to confront her mother for the truth. "Mum? Did you know that I have a brother?"

Hermione frowned in amusement, chuckling. "Yes... Hugo..."

Rose shook her head, her eyes still down on her parchment. "No, I have _two_ brothers... one of them died in your tummy."

Silence. There was a rustling as Rose looked up to find her mother now sitting on the edge of her bed. Rose felt Mummy grip her hand, watched the color drain from her face.

"Honey, who told you I had a baby die in my tummy?" she whispered.

"Uncle Harry," Rose replied. "He took me into a memory. You and Daddy were pregnant just after the war, and you lost the baby." She turned her head to see her father in the doorway, looking shocked.

Hermione sighed heavily. "Yes, honey. Your daddy and I were pregnant. I was... about two months along, when one night at the Burrow..." She paused, blinking back tears so as to regain her composure. "I started bleeding and I wouldn't stop. I... birthed the fetus into the bathtub. Your uncle ran out in grief and was gone half the night." Rose elected to stay silent about exactly what her Uncle Harry was doing.

"Does it still make you sad?" Rose asked her mother curiously.

"Of course. But... not as much as it used to. Looking back now, your dad and I think that maybe we weren't ready to be parents just yet. The war had just ended; Dad, Uncle Harry and I were still recovering and looking ahead to starting our careers. I went to Australia, with your dad, soon after I... lost the baby and restored Granddad and Grandma Granger's memories. Harry made sure his relatives were returned from hiding..."

Rose glanced between her parents, seizing onto this thread. "Did you know that Harry's Muggle relatives abused him? Bullied him, enslaved him, beat him?" The tears fell anew. "Who does that? Who does that, to someone so sweet like Uncle Harry?"

Hermione breathed deep through her nose before speaking.

"Yes. Your uncle's relatives did abuse him. But... Rosie, you have to believe that your dad and I didn't know. At least, not the full story. Only your Aunt Ginny knows that. It's one of the few instances where Harry has told her more than he's told me or your dad."

"But... but you three tell each other everything!" Rose spluttered.

"Damn close, but... there are some things where Uncle Harry can be a bit of an internalist, Rosie. Mostly, I think it's because he's trying to protect everyone else. Still... we knew there was... abuse," Ron's voice rumbled from the doorway. "Neglect. Your uncle once had bars on his bedroom window. I saw those bars. He was only twelve years old. Uncle Fred, Uncle George and I broke him out."

"Starvation," Hermione murmured quietly. "The first time Uncle Harry was at the Burrow, one of the first memories Aunt Ginny has of him is how shocked he was to get a full plate of food."

Rose gulped. "Was there... _sexual_...?" She couldn't finish the question, gagging on the word.

Hermione's eyes went wide. "Merlin, no! I don't know much, but I definitely know there wasn't anything like that."

Rose stared down at her half-covered parchment, her eyes dark and brooding. "I'm glad I've never met them. I bet you all are too."

Her father chuckled nervously. "I'm sorry to say we have, Rosie."

Rose's eyes snapped to his. "You have? _When_?"


	6. Chapter 6: FLASHBACK - Dealings With Dud

**Chapter 6: FLASHBACK - Dealings With Dudley**

Harry watched surreptitiously from the landing on the Burrow's staircase. Hermione's belly was round as she flitted about at the stove, bouncing a two-year-old Rosie in her arms. Ron had his arms about his wife, smiling down at his little family and her womb, but there was a nervousness behind his eyes.

The whole family had been over the moon to hear that Ron and Hermione were expecting again, and so quickly after their first little bundle of blessings. It had been with joyous relief to observe Hermione sail through her first pregnancy, resulting in Rose, a gorgeous baby girl. Thank Merlin, the family had said, after they both had waited and tried for so long. From afar, Harry had watched, expecting something to go wrong, but when nothing did... He was only glad he had not let his guard down enough this second time around.

As the summer had chilled into fall, Harry had received letters from Ron discussing Hermione's preparations for the new baby. Words like contractions, cramps and unusual fatigue had jumped off the pages. Now that he could see his sister-in-law for himself as the family had now all descended on the Burrow for the Christmas holidays, Harry could clearly observe that she didn't... glow in exactly same way as she had while she was carrying Rosie.

Harry slid into the kitchen, pulling the hood of the brown University of Bristol jumper over his head. It had been a hand-me-down/birthday present from Hermione - mostly because it had shrunk in the wash, and it definitely wouldn't fit Ron.

"You're going out in this weather?" Ron gawped at his best mate.

Harry just shouldered his briefcase in answer. "I have a meeting with an... associate."

Hermione just grinned in understanding. "Hurry home." And she now turned to her toddler. "Rosie, can you say Buh-Bye to Uncle Harry? Say Buh-bye!" She waved Rose's fat little fist for her as she cooed in baby-talk.

Harry gave her a one-armed hug and kissed his niece's forehead. "I won't be long."

Ron watched him got out into the rain. "I know that face."

"Hmm?" his wife said absently, as she fed Rose her bottle.

"He's got his game face on." Ron peered into the driving rain. "Can't _imagine_ where he gets it from..."

* * *

The bar was smoky and noisy, obscuring Harry in a way that he much preferred, at least in the context of this... summit. Sliding into a corner booth, shoulders hunched, keeping the jumper's hood low over his eyes, he waited. Finally, the face of a man he had not seen in ten years surfaced, and Harry threw back his hood. The new arrival's gaze locked onto his.

"H... Harry?"

Harry smirked. "Hey, Big D." He beckoned forward. "Step into my office."

Dudley had clearly slimmed down in the ensuing decade, but that didn't stop the plush seats of the booth from sagging in protest as he lowered himself across from his cousin. Dudley fished a ciggy into his mouth.

"Light me?" Harry took the burner from him, sliding his thumb along the ball. The flame held, and Harry wafted it over the edge of the cigarette Dudley protruded out to him.

"You come with a challenge, eh? I was surprised to get your ow - your call," he corrected himself. "How well do you know this woman? Her history?"

"Almost as well as I know myself," Harry clipped back. "Been with her husband for ten years, took eight of them to have her first child - gem of a pregnancy. But before that, there was a miscarriage back in '98."

Dudley puffed out a ring of smoke, his eyes intrigued. "And now?"

Harry shrugged. "She's expecting again, about four months along, but some of her symptoms have been... worrisome." He leaned forward. "They say you're the best, Duds. I saw that interview with Piers Morgan on the BBC. Now, if I mean _anything_ to you, tell me now: can you take this case on? Cause I'll be _hanged_ if I watch my brother and sister-in-law get screwed over again!" Tears threatened his eyes and he blinked them away.

Dudley leaned back in the booth and nodded. "Yeah, I'm totally down. How far along was she with the kid she lost?"

Harry ran a hand through his hair, trying to block the painful memories. "Two months."

Dudley nodded shortly. "Yeah, bring 'em in."

"I have to discuss it with them first, of course, but thanks, Big D. I'll call you."

* * *

Harry returned to the Burrow to find most of his family - including the older grandkids, engrossed in a Quidditch tournament; by now, the rain from the morning had dissipated. No sooner had he let himself into the house that Ron attacked him by the front door.

"Sssh! Harry! Come with me. Keep your voice low."

"What...? Ron, what's going on?" Harry demanded, as his brother-in-law hustled him up the back stairs, pausing only in front of his and Hermione's room.

"Listen!"

Through the crack in the door, Harry and Ron watched as Hermione rocked Rosie over her crib, singing her a lullaby:

 _"_ _There must be something more to us than you and me. It must be tangled up some how, its destiny. I used to think the sum of one and one was two. But we add up to more me and you. When we are close together it's so plain to see. Together we are better than we used to be. I don't know how to say the things I'm thinking of. But this something more we're feeling must be love…."_

Harry side-eyed Ron heavily, who now had a dreamy expression on his face. "You dragged me up here for... Man, she's got you wrapped around her finger hook, line and sinker!"

"Yeah," sighed Ron. "Isn't it bloody _brilliant_?"

Standing up from where she had lowered Rosie into the crib (who was giggling and reaching for the mobile twinkling above it), Hermione twirled around, eyeing her best friends in amusement. She turned pink. "I didn't know we had an audience..."

Ron strode over and kissed her gently. "Anyone could watch you, love."

Hermione nestled herself in her husband's arms, his hands resting on her swelling stomach, as they gazed down at their daughter, lost in love. "Isn't she beautiful?"

"She's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen..." Ron's voice cracked on the phrase; he looked close to bursting into tears.

Harry just leaned against the doorjamb. His best mates had waited forever for Rose... he swore they would not have to wait forever again.

* * *

This had to be a dream. A sick prank. His brother-in-law and best friend had not just suggested what he had just suggested.

Ron shook his head as though he was trying to dislodge a fly. He slapped his hands into the wood of the kitchen table as he rose from his chair.

"You're mad, Potter! Stark - raving - _bloody_ mad!"

It was late at night. Harry, Ron and Hermione were sitting at the Burrow's kitchen table, Rose nestled asleep in her mother's arms. Harry had just informed his family about the meeting with his "associate."

The Chosen One sighed heavily, having expected it to go over like this. "Ron -"

"Let me see if I've got this right, shall I? You want me and my wife to discuss our sex life and our child with your _cousin_ who abused you for sixteen years? Never mind that you're insane - this isn't any of your business!"

"This concerns my unborn nephew! I'd call that totally _motherfucking_ my business!" Harry snapped.

Hermione lay a gentle hand on Harry's palm. "Harry... I appreciate the sentiment..."

" _Appreciate the sentiment_?" Ron ogled at his wife. "He wants us to sit down with a monster!"

"He is NOT a monster!" Harry bit back. "I know him!"

"Why do you keep defending him?" Ron scoffed, turning away. "He's not even your family!"

Silence as the weight of the jab washed over all of them. When he spoke next, Harry's voice was quiet, gentle:

"He's no less my family than you two are." He sighed. "Ron, I know Dudley and I had a... contentious childhood. Frankly, he was a nasty little sod. But he's grown up since then. Graduated University. Westminister for medical school. Completing his residency at Middlesex, and people are already clamoring for him to set up his private practice. He's the best pregnancy and fertility specialist in Muggle London." He held up his hand. "You don't have to take the appointment, no harm, no foul. But if it would make you and Hermione feel better, I would go with you. As an emissary."

"Or a bodyguard," Ron grunted.

Harry chuckled. "I can promise you, there will be no fisticuffs!"

"I can't."

"Ron," Hermione scolded. "Ron... I... I want to go see this guy. Maybe he can help us."

Harry glanced to his sister-in-law gratefully. "Hermione, have I ever told you how much I love you and your good sense?"

"Only once or twice," Hermione smiled, rocking Rose in her arms.

Ron looked between two of the three people he cared for most in the world, and knew that he had lost. He threw up his hands. "All right, but this is on your hands, Potter! Clear?"

Harry smirked. "Crystal."

* * *

The fertility clinic at Middlesex featured long, white-washed hallways, which Harry, Ron and Hermione proceeded down as they approached Dr. Dudley Dursley's office. Rose had been left behind at the Burrow, where she would be the main attraction in final preparations for the Christmas holidays.

Rounding a final corner, there stood the man now, in the doorway of his office, smiling affectionately when he caught sight of his cousin. "Harry..."

Behind his brother-in-law, Ron stiffened. It could be a trap. One hand rested on his wand in the back pocket of his jeans. Dudley and Harry shook hands.

"And you must be Ron and Hermione," Dudley greeted. "Harry's... Harry's told me so much about you."

Ron didn't take the proffered hand right away. Once he did, however, Hermione followed his example, smiling weakly. "Hi... it's... nice to meet you, finally."

Dudley waved the three of them back. Ron and Hermione seated themselves in two chairs across from the spacious desk. Harry took a third, leaning against the far wall.

"Floor is yours, cuz," Harry ceded. "Just pretend I'm not here."

" _That'll_ be easy," Ron muttered sarcastically.

"Now, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley..." Dudley began. "Can you start by... relaying to me some of your symptoms from this pregnancy? In comparison to your previous one." He must have noticed Ron's brow furrow as he worked through the doctor's meaning, for he quickly added. "I know about the miscarriage..."

"You _told_ him about the miscarriage?" Ron gawped at Harry, bewildered, and even Hermione looked a little uncomfortable.

"Well, I couldn't exactly avoid it now, could I? I needed to paint a complete and accurate picture. That was actually what convinced Dudley to take your case on."

Ron scowled a little at Harry, before eventually facing Dudley again. "Yes... well... Hermione's been sleeping much more than she did while she was carrying Rosie, our daughter..."

The meeting went on like this, clipped and cordial. At least, until Hermione stood up. "Excuse me," she murmured. Harry waved Ron down, and followed his sister-in-law into the hallway. Hermione now spun to face him, eyes blinking back tears.

"I'm sorry, I can't... _handle_ this! I can't sit across from that man and pretend he didn't hurt someone I love!"

Harry sighed. He supposed that no one in his family - not even Ginny - would ever completely understand what he went through at the hands of the Dursleys, but he was safe now. A grown man with a family of his own. Didn't they realize this? He rubbed his hands soothingly over Hermione's shoulders.

"Hermione: if I had for any second thought you or Ron or the baby were in danger, I wouldn't have recommended him, much less brought you here. Look... forget for a minute that he's my cousin, forget that he and I have a history, forget that through marriage the two of you are distantly related! I know you don't trust Dudley, but if you can't trust Dudley, than you should at least trust me! Do you?" And his eyes searched her brown ones. "Do you trust me?"

Hermione gulped and dared to stare up into his face. "I trust you with my life. And my child's." She rested Harry's fingers over her abdomen. Harry kissed her hair.

"Then why don't we go back in?"

Dudley raised one eyebrow as Harry and Hermione came back into the room. "Why didn't you comfort her yourself?" he mildly asked Ron.

Ron gripped the handles of his armchair like they were a lifeline, growling. "I trust him with my wife."

Dudley peered closer just then, as if he was just remembering something. "I remember you," he suddenly whispered. "You were there in the getaway car that night with the bars, weren't you?"

"I reckon so."

All at once, the door opened, and a voice Harry thought he would never hear again boomed, "Sorry, Dudders, but I had to get you this; your secretary wouldn't let me back..."

Harry wheeled around in horror, even as he stood up out of his chair. Scarcely inside the doorway, Vernon and Petunia Dursley - looking like they had not aged at all well - halted.

Three pairs of eyes locked. Three hearts stopped beating. Three sets of muscles brimmed with tension.

Then, the tableau exploded.

"YOU!" Roaring like an angry bull, Vernon lunged at Harry. But unlike their tussles from decades before, this time Harry fought back. Gone were the days where he silently took each and every hit. Gone were the days when his uncle's very presence had him shivering like a small rabbit. For now, Harry Potter had faced and beaten far, far worse than Vernon Dursley.

The two men grappled for control, Harry staggering backward into the far wall, so that his head collided with a framed display of one of Dudley's diplomas.

"What are you doing here? Why are you tormenting us again, you useless freak!" Vernon was grunting, trying to gain the upper hand. Harry threw his uncle off him, and Vernon rounded on his son.

"What the hell is he _doing_ here?"

"I invited him. His friends are... dealing with a difficult pregnancy," Dudley explained. "Dad..."

But Vernon's eyes were now strangely focused on Hermione and her belly. Harry didn't mind how Vernon looked at him, but he sure as _bloody_ _hell_ minded how Vernon looked at her. Harry suddenly felt very protective of his sister-in-law.

"You're helping them breed more freaks?" And he lunged for Hermione as she shrank into her seat.

It happened before anyone could stop him. Harry was suddenly on Vernon's back like a monkey, a curled fist connected to a rippling, muscular arm now firmly locked around the Muggle's neck. The young wizard's face was twisted in rage as he growled. Harry's eyes locked onto Ron's.

"The baby! Get her out of here!"

Ron and Hermione dove for the door, Dudley hustling them away, and Petunia staggering back in confusion into the hall. Vernon sank to his knees, his nephew still across his back; the older man was struggling to get air. Harry briefly remembered the techniques his Auror mentor had shown him at the beginnings of a very long career, about how to deal with a Muggle assailant: _Identify the threat. Immobilize the threat. And, if necessary, neutralize it._

"Wait! Wait!" And Hermione wheeled back, one hand clutching her womb. "Harry!"

"GO _NOW_!" Harry growled like an animal.

Ron grabbed for his wife. "Hermione, quickly... hurry... come along..."

As the office cleared, Vernon charged forward, Harry still on top of him. The two men tumbled out the office door, into the opposite wall, and rolled into the hallway. Vernon was nearly on all fours now. He was wheezing, his limbs quivering. In the nick of time, Harry suddenly let go and stumbled back.

Vernon was nearly prone on the floor of the hallway, gulping in air. And for one mad moment, Harry felt eleven years old again, after he had done a strange and bewildering bit of what he didn't know at that time was magic.

"Uncle Vernon... I didn't... I'm sorry, I..."

"I asked you to stay away from our family," Vernon glowered at him. "And you... _betrayed_ us all."

Harry sidestepped Vernon, unable to resist sending a quick kick into his stomach, and he approached Dudley. "I'm sorry, I'm..." he panted, but Dudley held up a hand.

"Don't worry about it; I'll sort him out. Here's my card." Harry was amazed - and grateful - that his cousin was being so calm about this. Harry enveloped his best friends in a hug.

"Let's go."

"Wait!" And Dudley sent a genuine smile in Ron and Hermione's direction. "Good luck to you both."

Ron and Hermione both nodded, the latter shakingly. Then they left the office.

* * *

Harry kept his eyes firmly on the road, his knuckles turning white, bloodless, as they gripped the steering wheel. From the shotgun seat, he could feel Hermione's concerned, gentle eyes on him. He sighed heavily, and reached for the hand in her lap.

"Do you remember when you told me you were expecting Rosie, and I told you I would be her godfather?" He sent her a sideways smile. "Bit presumptive of me, I know..."

"There was _no one_ else," Hermione whispered with love.

"And I promised you as her godfather, I would protect her from anyone or anything? Well, you just got a glimpse of what that might look like."

He heard Hermione whimper, but the rest of the sound was drowned out by his dashboard intercepting an incoming call. Harry pressed to answer. "Hello?"

"Hey, are you all on your way home? Mum's gone mental cooking..." Ginny's sweet, soothing voice came over the line. She was the only one whom the Golden Trio had told about the fertility meeting.

"Gin... we're on the highway..."

"Well, just tell me how the _appointment_ went!"

"Sure. It's just... we're gonna be another 20 minutes in traffic, love." Harry's voice was clipped, low, rumbling and tired.

"Well, don't be _too_ late, you lot! It's the night before Christmas Eve!"

Harry took in his wife's amused chiding before hanging up the call. His eyes met Ron's in the backseat. Behind the dark circles, there was a gratefulness there, which Harry conveyed his understanding of with a short nod. They had each other's backs.


	7. Chapter 7: The Chains Loosen

**Chapter 7: The Chains Loosen**

Back in the present, fate was striking a similar tableau, as Harry flew his niece through the skies in the old Ford Anglia, after another draining day of Pensieve diving. He was taking her back to Hogwarts castle this time, figuring that she needed to be back with her cousins, friends and boyfriend as a well-earned break.

"They deserved it," Rose said. "After how horribly they treated you..."

"Maybe. Although I would have to argue no on Dudley. He turned out to be very helpful in ensuring that your brother was delivered successfully and your mother was safe. I still see him for drinks once a fortnight or so, exchange Christmas cards. Petunia... we've spoken very rarely since that day. And Vernon, well... I never saw him again. And was glad to."

Rose quirked an eyebrow. "You referred to Vernon in the past tense. Is he...?" She refused to refer to that monster as Uncle... or Great-Uncle, or Uncle once removed, or whatever it was!

Harry sent her a sideways smirk. "Oh, he's dead. He passed away, oh, about the time you and Al started your Muggle primary school lessons."

The wave of a vague memory washed over Rose in that moment. "That's right... you dropped me off for my first day of school... Mummy and Daddy were at a conference..." She peered at her uncle hard. "You were wearing a really fancy Muggle suit..."

Harry nodded grimly. "Right after I dropped you off, I drove all the way to Little Whinging and attended Uncle Vernon's funeral."

Rose gasped. "You _didn't_! Why did you go?"

"Honestly? Because Petunia and Dudley asked me to. They needed the support. They even tired to get your Aunt Ginny to come, but I knew she'd never go for that, so I kept it from her. Well, the night before the service, your aunt got wind of it, found the invitation in the trash, and confronted me about it. She put her foot down. Not only did she refuse to go, she forbade that I go. Or at least tried to. We rowed. You were upstairs, asleep with Lily in her room."

* * *

 **FLASHBACK**

"So, it has come to our understanding that Antonin Dolohov is somewhere in the mountains of Austria. He is armed, and he is dangerous. Mind you, this is one of the last fugitives of Voldemort's regime, so we need to close this case..."

Harry listened to Terry Boot drone on from his place at the long conference table. Ron was by his side, and further to his left, Hermione was taking detailed notes, as a representative from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Harry felt his Muggle phone buzz in his pocket and he slyly slipped it out to read the incoming text message. It was from a contact simply labeled Big D:

 _He's gone. In his sleep._

Harry stuffed the phone back into his pocket. "I have to go," he murmured and excused himself. He stepped out into the stairwell. In the quiet privacy of the stairs, Harry hung his head heavily, simply remembering.

Should he feel something? He wasn't sure. He had known it was coming; Dudley had been texting and emailing him updates on Vernon's cancer battle and treatment for months. Would he mourn? Did Dudley expect him to? No, surely not; Dudley had used his cousin as a sounding board, needing someone to whom he could vent.

The door on the landing above echoed ominously, followed by the clacking of heels. And there was Hermione, looking as concerned and generous of heart as ever. She rested her hand in his.

"What is it?" she searched his face.

Harry looked down at his feet. "My uncle's dead."

Hermione gasped. The question was out immediately. "Are you going to the service?"

"I don't know. Petunia and Dudley might ask me. Even then, I still can't be sure. But there's a good chance the old bastard had the presence of mind to put out a restraining order against me in his will, so perhaps the point is moot."

Sure enough, when Harry got home that night, beating Ginny back from the _Prophet_ by a good ten minutes, there was an owl waiting on the windowsill of his kitchen with a formal invitation. He dashed off a reply, flipped the bird a Sickle, plugged the information on the invitation into his phone, and dropped the envelope into the trash.

* * *

It was the night before the service when Harry returned from the office late, to find his wife at their kitchen island with a crumpled piece of paper in her fist. She looked murderous.

"When were you going to tell me about this?" she asked, her voice icily calm. Harry just glared at her and dumped his briefcase beside his favorite easy chair. He retreated into the hallway, turning for the stairs.

"Don't you walk away from me, Harry James Potter!" Ginny snapped, following him, talking to his back. "So it's true, then? You _are_ going. To the funeral of your abuser."

Harry spun around sharply on the top step. "What do you expect me to do, Gin?"

She gawped at him. "Have some pride. Don't go. Don't grace the fucker with your presence!"

"I'm not going for _him_ ; I'm going for Dudley and Aunt Petunia!"

Ginny rested her hands on her hips. "Like they're any better..."

"What do you want me to do, Ginny? They asked me to go, the request was heartfelt. They've been having a pretty rough go of it!"

"Obviously, if you're Muggle inbox is any indication..."

Harry gaped at her, his ears turning red, fuming. "Oh, so you've been reading my emails? My text messages? Dudley forwarded that information to me in the strictest confidence!"

"Since when are you buddy buddies with your loser of a cousin all of a sudden?"

"He is _not_ a loser! He _asked_ me to go!"

Ginny eyed him hard for a moment, then marched back down the stairs to the kitchen. Against his better judgement, Harry followed her. "You know, Harry, sometimes you're too noble and giving for your damn good -"

" _Lower your voice_! Our children and our niece are upstairs asleep!"

"I don't care! Have some self-respect! They'll be plenty of others who will go to the piece-of-shit's sham of a memorial!"

"Actually, no, because if what Dudley told me is any indication, it's looking like it's gonna be a party of three!"

Ginny let out a vindicated laugh. "Good. He'll be just as despised in death as he was in life!"

"Yeah, and how would you feel, Ginny? If that was you? Not even his Grunnings colleagues will be there; Dudley's gotten decline after decline!"

Ginny frowned. "Grunnings?"

"It's a Muggle drill making company; he worked there all his life. Used to drive Dudley and me to boredom at the breakfast table. The point is, they're probably not even going to have enough folks to be _pallbearers_ , Gin! Dudley and I are gonna have to do it ourselves. It's not like a magical service, where you can just float the casket over to the grave site. Remember Colin Creevey's funeral?"

This made her take pause, and her eyes filled with tears. "Why are you doing this?" she whispered.

"Because no matter what happened, it's the right thing to do."

"It should have stopped being the right thing to do _twenty-five years ago_! I'm not going to that bastard's funeral and you shouldn't, either! You should stay at home, have a nice, quiet evening with your family, and the people who actually love you the way they never did!"

"They're my family, too!"

"Uncle Harry? Aunt Ginny?"

Both adults turned to find a preschool-aged Rose standing in the kitchen in her nightdress, clutching a stuffed hippogriff and looking scared.

Harry glowered at his wife. "Now look what you did." Gliding over to Rose, he knelt so she was eye-level with him and kissed her forehead. "It's all right, Rosebud. Auntie and I were just having a discussion."

"Pretty _loud_ discussion," she frowned, sounding like a clone of her mother.

"Yeah. But that's OK, because the point is that like Mummy and Daddy, Auntie and I are always... united. Against the forces... " he faltered. "The forces of..."

"Pig-headedness?" Ginny cracked dryly.

"I was gonna say _'evil'_ or something."

The phone suddenly rang. "Comfort your niece," Harry ordered as he leapt for the landline. "Hello?"

"Hey!" Hermione's voice came over the receiver. "Ron and Hughie and I are at the hotel. Great first day of the conference. Rosie asleep?"

Harry bit his lip, embarrassed. "She, uh... was. Actually got up just now to get a drink of water." Behind him, Ginny snorted at the fib. "You wanna talk to her?" He held the receiver out to Rose. "It's your mom."

Rose took it from him. "Hi, Mummy!" she chirped. "Yes, I got my water, and I'm going right back to bed. I'm in Lily's room! OK... I love you, too. Can I talk to Daddy?" She listened as Ron's voice came over the line.

"Now you be a good little girl, and you do what your aunt and uncle tell you."

"Yes, Daddy," Rose murmured quietly. She handed the phone back to her uncle.

"Yeah?... No, I'm taking her and Al to the school in the morning; Audrey will meet us there... Well, she is the headmistress, so yeah... Uh-huh... Nah, I have a previous engagement, but I'll be back to pick them up at lunchtime... Pleading the Fifth… Sure, thanks, Hermione... OK, I love you... Bye." He hung up.

"We're sorry we woke you," Ginny told Rose gently. "Everything's OK. Go back to bed." Rose turned for the stairs. "In fact," she drawled to her husband emphatically. "We should _all_ be in bed."

* * *

"All right, big smiles, baby! Big smiles!" Harry grinned as he flashed a picture of a beaming Rose striking a pose with her backpack on her first day of Muggle school the next morning. "Look at those pearly whites! Just like your mummy... All right, Al, get in for one more..."

"Aw, bollocks!"

"Albus Severus! Language," Ginny scolded. "Let your father take the picture." Harry snapped one more before hustling the kids to the car.

"You know, every time I see a camera, it makes me think of Colin..." Ginny mused, reminiscing.

"Yeah, he'd be working for the _Prophet_ by now..." Harry guessed as he opened the driver's side. "Lily's gonna go to the Burrow... James will be home because he has the chicken pox; you'll Floo in to check on him... am I forgetting anything?"

"Nope," Ginny shook her head. Her anger from the previous evening had dimmed with a good night's sleep. "Have... have a good time... Mmm..." She was surprised by, but accepted, Harry's kiss.

"Goodbye, crazy lady," he murmured appreciatively.

"Oi! Get going, Potter!"

Harry laughed as he climbed into the car, and drove his niece and youngest son to Muggle primary school. By the time he pulled up to the curb, a throng of kids were already streaming for the gates. Rose and Albus got out, racing forward when they saw their Aunt Audrey wave from the steps.

"Love you guys! Learn something!" Harry called to the children's retreating backs. Then, he put the Ford Anglia in drive and began making the long, emotional trek to Little Whinging.

He, Dudley and Petunia were indeed the only ones there. Despite that, and an overcast of clouds, it was a beautiful service. Harry walked his aunt and cousin up to Number Four, Privet Drive.

"Won't you stay for tea, Harry?" Petunia asked meekly.

Harry glanced at the house, then back at his aunt. He had never set foot inside since the night before his seventeenth birthday, when he was spirited away. He didn't want to start now. "Sorry, Aunt Petunia, but I gotta get back. I'm picking up my son and niece from Mug - from primary school. But I promise I'll write."

Dudley nodded mutely. Harry held out a hand. "Give me some skin."

Dudley tried to turn away, shame in his eyes. "Hey," Harry pressed, his hand still outstretched. " _Skin it_." The look in those green eyes was firm, but also filled with something much gentler.

Forgiveness.

Dudley finally slapped palms with his cousin. Harry kissed Petunia on the cheek, and headed for his car.

 **END OF FLASHBACK**


	8. Chapter 8: Why Did You Hate Your Cousin?

**Chapter 8: Why Did You Hate Your Cousin?**

Rose got off the Muggle bus, supplies for her project in hand. If she was going to do a well-rounded profile on her uncle, she was going to have to get both sides of the story. Obviously, when it came to Uncle Harry's battle with Voldemort, that would not be possible, thank Merlin! But for this...

Upon entering, she was asked to wait in the waiting room. After about fifteen minutes, a secretary ushered her back to an office, the inside of which Rose recognized immediately. "He should be about another five minutes," the secretary informed her.

Indeed, not long after, Rose sensed the door opening behind her. And there he was, pulling up short with his briefcase in hand upon seeing her.

"Ginny?" Then he shook his head. "No, you're not Ginny..." He circled back towards his desk, keeping his eyes curiously on Rose. "You look like her, though."

Rose nodded. "So I've been told. I'm Harry Potter's niece."

Dudley was halfway lowered into his seat when he froze. His eyes started. "What did you say?"

"Harry Potter is my uncle. My school is having me do a profile on him."

Dudley peered at her warily. "The magic school," he guessed.

Rose did not acknowledge the comment as she sat down, Muggle tape recorder in hand. Her first question was hurled into being like a fist to the gut.

"Why did you hate your cousin?"

Dudley blinked, and his wariness actually turned to fear. "How much do you know, kid?"

"I know enough," Rose replied coolly. "Why did you hate your cousin, give me an honest answer! You had a cousin who gave a _damn_ about you! Even after all you did to him!" She still couldn't believe that she was in this man's presence, that by all rights, he was her first cousin once removed. The thought of being related to the Dursleys, even distantly, made her sick. "He saved your life!" and the tears threatened. "Yes, I've seen the Dementors!"

Dudley was gaping at her so hard, flies would have been able to zoom in and out with ease. "How...?"

Rose violently shook her head. "You know what? I don't even know why I bothered coming here!" And she stormed for the door. But then a voice, so soft she thought she had imagined it, made her take pause:

"It wasn't hate."

Rose's palm stilled on the doorknob. She waited. She could feel Dudley's eyes on her, and though he did not speak the request, she re-took her seat. It was a long while before he spoke again:

"I guess you could say... I was blinded by jealousy. Harry practically fell out of the sky, he showed up so suddenly. And whenever he was around, there were these strange things happening... things I couldn't do. Things I didn't understand. My mother didn't either. I couldn't fathom how such a scrawny little runt could be a hero somewhere else, somehow be better than me. And I knew deep down I could never compete with that, so I..."

"You tortured him?" Rose guessed. Dudley gave a guilty little nod.

The door behind them suddenly opened, and Rose swiveled around to gape at the woman who came bustling in. Aunt Petunia.

"Dudders? I just stopped by for lunch..."

"And you!" Rose sprang out of her seat and advanced on Petunia. "You made Uncle Harry your personal slave! You should have been there to love him but you weren't! Why didn't you love him? I don't understand!"

Petunia's beady eyes were nearly popping out of her head. "What... who are you...?"

All at once, Uncle Harry appeared in the hallway, panting. Upon seeing his niece, his green eyes flashed dangerously.

"Rose Hermione Ginevra Weasley! What are you doing here?"

Rose took a step back; she had never seen her uncle this angry, and certainly not at her. "I..."

Harry snapped his head to Dudley. "Big D, is this gal bothering you?"

"No," Dudley shook his head, and Rose appeared shocked that he would actually lie for her. "We were just having a... spirited discussion."

Harry narrowed his eyes at his niece hard, but didn't say anything further. Meanwhile, Dudley had circled his desk so that he was now facing Rose.

"Thank you, Rose. It's an honor to be related. Well... distantly." He held out a pudgy hand. Had her uncle not been directly over her shoulder, Rose probably wouldn't have shaken it, but she did.

Under Uncle Harry's watchful eye, a chastened Rose hurried to his car. For most of the drive back, neither spoke. But when Harry finally did, his peeved demeanor had not diminished.

"Now, as you know, my cousin did help your parents bring your brother safely into the world... and barging into his office and accosting him like a tabloid reporter is a pretty piss POOR way to repay him! I will smooth things over, but this is the last time you presume that you need to protect me, Rosie. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, sir," Rose whispered.

Her uncle blinked. "Since when have you ever called me _'sir'_?"

"Since when have you ever called me by my full name?"

Harry grimaced. "Touché." He sighed.

"How can you forgive them?" Rose peered at him curiously. " _How_?"

Harry kept his eyes firmly on the road, brow creased in thought. "Because... I know Petunia and Dudley didn't hate me. Not really. It was jealousy and ignorance on their parts - probably in Dudley's case and _definitely_ in Petunia's. For Uncle Vernon, it was hatred, pure and simple. There was no love lost between us, right through the day he died." He laid a hand on Rose's arm. "Forgiveness... doesn't mean that you're suddenly OK with what someone did to you, Rosie. Forgiveness means that you understand _why_ they did what they did. I can do so with Petunia and Dudley. Vernon? Not so much. Can you understand?"

Rose nodded, though unsure. "Maybe. Someday."

Harry smiled slightly. "I'll take it."


	9. Chapter 9: A Special Kind of Love

**Chapter 9: A Special Kind of Love**

 **FLASHBACK**

Ron and Harry were nearly nose-to-nose, yelling at each other hoarse.

"You're parents are dead! You have no family!" Ron was spitting.

There was a sudden flurry of movement as the two young men grappled physically with each other.

"Fine, then, go! Go, then!" Harry goaded, pointing towards the flap of the tent.

"Well?" Ron barked to a tearful Hermione. "Are you coming or are you staying?" When she couldn't answer, his jaw clenched, though his eyes were heartbroken. "I get it. You choose him. I saw you two last night."

"Ron, that's... that's nothing!" Hermione whimpered. He simply pushed his way past the flap. "Please, come back! Please!"

Harry stalked over to his bunk, only staring blankly at Hermione as she came back inside, threw herself on her bed, and wept.

* * *

What was judged to be a few weeks later, Ron had still not returned. Hermione was sitting on some steps inside the tent, sadly watching a wireless radio as it played Muggle dance hall music. Harry soon approached. Wordlessly, he helped Hermione to her feet, and removed a chain from around her neck, casting it into a corner. Slowly, he began to manipulate her arms in a gentle push-and-pull. Little by little, Hermione's face brightened into a smile, and the pair were soon laughing and dancing together.

 **From one corner of the tent, Rose recognized the happiness in her uncle and mother's faces. If she flashed a few years forward, she recognized the two young people who had danced together and laughed at her parents' wedding, when Harry had been the first to dance with the bride after the couple's initial dance. She had seen the home video footage countless times.**

Hermione now raised her head off of Harry's shoulder. The pair held each other's gaze for a moment, before finally, Hermione turned sadly away.

* * *

Another memory surfaced, this one outside and in deep night. Harry was laying the pendant - the same one he had taken off Hermione's neck - on a flat slab of rock. Ron was there, a sword swinging limply from his one arm.

A grating hissing noise emanated from Harry's lips and the locket popped open. Instantly, a tornado of black magic blasted forth and began to speak:

"I have seen your heart, and it is mine... I have seen your dreams, Ronald Weasley, and I have seen your fears... All that you desire is possible, but all that you dread is also possible... Least loved, always, by the mother who craved a daughter... least loved, now, by the girl who prefers your friend... Second best, always, eternally overshadowed..."

"Ron, it's lying!" Harry yelled, as two white spirits materialized out of the black darkness. They were ghosts... of Harry and Hermione?

"We were better without you. Happier without you..."

"Who could look at you, compared to Harry Potter? What are you, compared with the Chosen One? What are you, compared with the Boy Who Lived?"

"Your mother confessed that she would have preferred me as a son..."

"What woman would take you? You are nothing... nothing... nothing compared to him."

 **"Rose," the older Harry snarled. "Turn your face away, I don't want you to see this, OK?"**

 **But Rose adverted her gaze too late, so that she caught sight of the ghostly apparitions of her uncle and mother naked and kissing. Mummy had flowers in her hair...**

 **"NOOOOOOO!" her father bellowed as he rushed the locket, the silver sword held high. Older Harry threw himself in front of Rose, shielding from the flash of white light that followed. Then, everything faded away, as Rose was pulled back out of yet another memory...**

 **END OF FLASHBACK**

* * *

Somehow, Rose landed on her feet this time. She could only gape at Uncle Harry.

"... Ewwww. Gross!" Her face scrunched up.

Surprisingly, Harry burst out laughing. "You know, I had the exact same reaction when I saw that for the first time."

Rose didn't know what bravery possessed her to ask her next question. "Did you ever love my mummy... that way?"

Harry shook his head, smiling gently. "No," he murmured quietly. "I've always viewed and cared for your mom as the sister I never had. That's what I told your dad... after."

Still, Rose peered at him curiously. "But you and Mummy love each other." She thought back once again to her parents' wedding video, when Uncle Harry had swooped in at the last second and walked her mummy down the aisle after Granddad Granger broke down.

Harry smiled sentimentally. "Yeah... but it's a special kind of love, all our own. Born out of protectiveness, mutual respect. Familiarity. Not the clear sexual tension that she had with your dad. Your mom's and my relationship grew stronger while your dad was away. We were both missing our significant others - you can't imagine how much I was freaking out over your aunt's safety. Your mum was depressed; there were nights I would go to bed cursing Ron's name because I didn't know how to help her. But she remained faithful to your dad, and I remained faithful to Aunt Ginny."

The reminder of her father's abandonment made Rose draw her lips into a hard line. "I'm going to kill him for what he did to her..."

Harry chuckled. "You're about 25 years too late, kid. When she saw him again, I thought for sure your mum was going to snog your dad. She beat him up instead." Rose giggled. Then another thought struck her.

"You and Dad came to blows. The night he left the tent."

Uncle Harry nodded grimly. "And we've never fought physically like that, before or since." He sighed. "I wouldn't... confront your dad about this. He stills feels horrible, all these years later, but... the three of us have put that behind us. A long time ago."

Rose studied her uncle curiously. "Is this another lesson about forgiveness?"

Harry smirked. "Bingo. Were your mom and I OK with him leaving? Hell, no. Did we understand why? Eventually, yes. That locket was a Horcrux, Rosie. It twisted your dad's mind. It mentally fucked with all of us, really, but Ron took it the worst. I think the best thing to do is to tell your dad you love him, often. It makes him feel... valued."


	10. Chapter 10: Back to the Manor

**Chapter 10: Back to the Manor**

As it had so many days before, out came the Pensieve. Harry extracted the shimmer of memory from his hairline. But this time, he paused as he regarded his niece.

"Rose... what you are about to see is going to get scary, and it's going to get scary fast. If it ever becomes too much for you, tell me, and we leave. OK?"

Gulping, Rose nodded. Then they dove into the Pensieve.

* * *

 **FLASHBACK**

 **Rose felt herself falling until at last she landed feet first on the floor of a long drawing room. She glanced about. Perpendicular to her and Harry was a group of men holding younger versions of her uncle, father and mother. Across from them was a wiry black-haired witch, about whom Rose had the strangest feeling that she had seen her before. Behind her was... Scorpius? No, impossible... his father... Scorpius looked just like him. An older couple was by his side - Scorpius's grandparents, maybe? In one corner was a mousy looking little man Rose did not recognize.**

"Where did you get that sword?" Bellatrix barked at the men holding Rose's family.

"It was in her bag when we found them. Reckon it's mine now," grumbled the biggest of the men with a sickening, toothy grin. Bellatrix snapped at this, and her wand suddenly became a kind of whip, rope spurting from the tip and strangling the big man's neck. He finally freed himself, dropped the sword to the floor with a clang, and all but one of the men ran out of the house in terror.

 **Rose looked up at her uncle. "Who are they?" she asked tremulously.**

 **"Snatchers," Harry replied grimly. "They worked as bounty hunters for Voldemort and his followers: rounded up Muggle-borns and other enemies of his regime. That bloke who just got choked was named Scabior - he was caught and sent to Azkaban after the war. Last I heard, he died in a prison riot there." Rose gulped and turned back to the scene.** Bellatrix now approached the Golden Trio.

"Where did you get this sword?" she hissed, her voice dangerously low.

"We - we found it," Hermione replied, **so quietly that Rose had to strain to hear her.**

"LIAR!" Bellatrix screamed. "You were in my fault at Gringotts!" **Rose could see some panic in her features now, and she almost smiled in satisfaction.** Something about this sword was important if its presence here and not in Bellatrix's vault terrified the Death Eater so much.

Hermione, meanwhile, gave no reply to Bellatrix's accusation. Enraged, Bellatrix pushed Ron and the younger Harry back towards the one man who had not fled the room after her attack.

"Put the boys in the cellar!" she ordered. "I'm going to have a little talk with this one, girl to girl!" She got right in Hermione's face, as Rose's father and uncle were hustled out of the room and down some stairs and out of sight. Ron was yelling something, **but Rose could not make it out**.

 **"Where is he taking you?" Rose asked fearfully.**

 **"Fenrir Greyback put me and your father in the manor's cellar. He was a werewolf. Bit Uncle Bill, you know. And Remus Lupin."**

 **"Teddy's dad?" Rose asked, shocked. Harry nodded.**

 **A scream made her turn back to the scene - and she almost fell over.** Bellatrix had knocked Hermione to the floor and was lying on top of her, their faces inches from each other. **Peering around, Rose saw a glint of silver catch what little light there was in the room.** A knife - and Bellatrix was cutting it into Hermione's skin. Hermione violently shook and screeched bloody murder.

"Where did you get it? Where?" Bellatrix hissed, pausing in her sadistic game.

"I-I don't kno-o-ow! I didn't take anything!" Hermione sobbed in pain. Not satisfied with her answer, Bellatrix continued to jam the knife into Hermione's arm, the girl's screams echoing off the walls.

 **"NOOO! MUMMY!" Rose screamed in horror. She tried to run to Hermione's side, but Harry held her back. "Let me go! That bitch is torturing her! She's killing her! DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH MY MOTHER!" she roared the last at Bellatrix.**

 **"There's nothing we can do, Rose! They can't see or hear us! Come on!" Harry ordered, and before Rose could do anything else, their location changed.**

 **They could still hear Hermione's screams, but they were now on stone steps descending towards a locked, gated door. Through the bars, Rose could see Ron and the younger Harry - along with an old man, a dark-skinned boy and a girl who looked like her Auntie Luna - bathed in the glow of a ball of light.** Rose's dad was adding calls of "HERMIONE!" to her mom's screams as he frantically ran around and dug at the walls, trying to find a way out. The younger version of her uncle was trying to shut him up.

"Be quiet, Ron, we have to come up with a plan…"

A sudden CRACK! made the prisoners look up to find a house elf had now suddenly joined their cell.

"DOB-" The young Harry punched Ron in the arm to keep him from shouting. The house-elf, Dobby, explained that he could Apparate in and out of the cellar. The young Harry quickly arranged for him to take Luna, Dean, and Mr. Ollivander ("He was the old wandmaker! His son runs the wand shop now!" Rose exclaimed) to -

"Shell Cottage on the outskirts of Tinworth!" Ron suddenly burst out. "Trust me," he added to younger Harry when he looked back at the red-head.

"Meet me at the top of the stairs in ten seconds!" Dobby ordered, then with another CRACK!, he and his passengers were gone.

"WHAT WAS THAT?" came a shout from upstairs that sounded like Bellatrix. **Rose began to tremble.**

 **"Oh no! She's going to catch you and Dad!" she almost sobbed to Uncle Harry.**

 **"No, she's not!" Harry whispered reassuringly to his niece, and Rose was disturbed to see that he was actually smiling. "Watch."**

"NO! SEND WORMTAIL! MAKE HIM GO AND CHECK!" someone ordered from above.

 **Rose was about to ask who Wormtail was, but her answer came when the mousy man she had seen earlier came down the steps and walked right past her and Harry up to the door.**

"Stand away from the door! Don't anybody move! I am coming in." **_He even sounds like a mouse_ , Rose thought.**

He opened the door…and the ball of light that had lit up the cellar unexpectedly went out. Sudden scuffling and muffled cries could be heard. **Rose didn't have to think very hard to realize that her father and uncle were putting up a fight for their lives; she could only imagine what was going on in the darkness just beyond. She didn't have to for very long, either, when Harry suddenly hissed "Lumos!" illuminating the passageway.**

Rose could now see Ron, the Wormtail guy, and young Harry fully engaged in a desperate struggle on the cellar floor. She saw her father wrestle a pair of wands from the little man's grasp. Young Harry, meanwhile, was holding Wormtail in a death grip, his hand over the mousy man's mouth.

"Wormtail? What's going on down there?" called a voice that seemed to be Scorpius's grandfather, Lucius.

"Nothing!" Ron called back in a pretty good impression of Wormtail's voice. "All fine!"

The real Wormtail struggled vigorously, and in the light of the wand, a silvery object reached up and clasped young Harry's throat. **With horror, Rose realized that the silvery object was Wormtail's hand; he was trying to choke her parents' best friend to death.**

"You'd really try to kill me?!" the young Harry wheezed. "After what I've done? You owe me, Wormtail!"

It was almost as if these words were an order to the silver hand itself, for it now released young Harry's throat and began to strangle the throat of its owner instead. Young Harry dropped Wormtail's form and crawled back, horrified. His expression matched the one now on Rose's face; she was watching a man essentially strangle himself before her eyes.

"No…"

Wormtail was desperately trying to get air; his face was turning blue, his little eyes darting back and forth in their sockets. At last, they rolled up into his head and he slumped backwards onto the cold stone before giving one final twitch. He was dead.

It was clear from the stunned expressions on Ron and young Harry's faces that they had not intended to kill their captured combatant, probably just knock him out long enough to escape.

"Who gets his wand?" Ron, young Harry, the real Harry and Rose looked back to see Dobby at the top of the stone steps. **Harry placed a hand on his niece's shoulder.**

 **"Let's go," he murmured, and they were suddenly back upstairs in the drawing room.**

It was eerily quiet now. Bellatrix and the Malfoys were standing off to one side. In the center of the room lay Hermione. **Rose could hardly bear to look at her. If she hadn't known her mother had just been tortured, Rose would have thought she looked almost beautiful lying there, as though she may have been sleeping.** Only Hermione's glazed over, emotionless eyes and the blood trickling down her arm dispelled this quaint notion. **The rise and fall of her chest as she gave short, painful breaths and the presence of her invisible future daughter were all that indicated to the world that she was still alive. Rose peered closer at her mother's bloodied arm.** _There's something written there…._ **When she saw what, she almost threw up: MUDBLOOD. A horrible wizarding slur had been carved into her mother's skin, visible only by (in a sick poetic way) the very blood that had given her, Rose, life.**

 **"Oh, Mum…" Rose croaked through the hand over her mouth and she began to weep. Her uncle stroked her hair, then gently nudged her.**

 **"Look."**

From where they were standing, they had a good view of the stairs that young Harry and Ron had been taken down - stairs where the same two young men now crouched.

"And I think we can let the goblin go now," Bellatrix was saying. She approached Hermione until she towered over her. "The same won't be said for this one," she chirped in a sickeningly calm voice.

"Like hell!" Ron snarled and he moved, young Harry hot on his heels. "Expelliarmus!"

The drawing room devolved into a fierce duel: Bellatrix and the Malfoys versus Harry and Ron. Young Harry knocked Mr. Lucius behind a couch, Greyback was Stunned and thrown into a nearby wall.

" _Drop your wands!_ " **Rose turned her attention away from the battle to see Bellatrix holding her mother, the same cursed blade that had tortured her now at her throat. Her father and uncle defiantly stayed frozen.**

 **"No," Rose gasped in terror.**

"I said _drop them!_ " Bellatrix repeated, pressing the blade until a trickle of blood appeared on Hermione's neck.

"All right!" young Harry yelled angrily, and the boys threw their weapons down and put their hands up in surrender.

"Good! Draco, pick them up! Lucius, call the Dark Lord! He'll praise us so when he sees we got Harry Potter…" her voice trailed off as a creaking sound made her look up to what Hermione had been forced to stare at.

The chandelier was moving, and at the top was none other than the house-elf Dobby.

A beat, then time and space seemed to slow as the whole glassy mass came crashing to Earth. Bellatrix let out a shriek and pushed Hermione away from her, towards the boys - the Death Eater bitch obviously only cared about saving her own wretched skin.

Amazingly, neither woman was crushed by the falling decoration. Hermione stumbled forward into her future husband's arms. Bellatrix barely managed to keep her balance. In the confusion, the young Harry boldly ran forward and wrested the seized wands from Mr. Malfoy, Scorpius' dad, who barely put up a fight. Glass shards flew everywhere. Scorpius' grandmother seemed to be the only one injured by them, as she was holding a now-bleeding arm, her wand lying at her feet.

"You dirty little monkey!" Bellatrix bawled at Dobby, who was now standing by the prisoners; the goblin had also joined them. "You could have killed me!"

"Not kill! Dobby only meant to maim or seriously injure!" the house-elf clarified, and if it weren't for the dire circumstances, Rose would have laughed out loud.

"Kill him, Cissy!" shrieked Lucius' wife. Dobby snapped his fingers, and Bellatrix's wand flew out of her hands and into his own.

"How dare you defy your masters!" Bellatrix roared.

"Dobby has no master," the elf snapped back defiantly. "Dobby is a free elf, and Dobby has come to save Harry Potter and his friends!"

Time once again seemed to slow. **Rose watched as her loved ones began to disappear into space itself as they desperately Disapparated;** in the same instance, Bellatrix played the only card she had left. The knife spun from her hand, turning over and over, it seemed, in slow motion towards the prisoners. **Rose prayed that it would not reach her family and their friends before they disappeared completely…**

Her prayer was in vain, as the knife was sucked into oblivion with them. Bellatrix's mouth curved into a small grin.

 **"I think we've seen enough," the present-day Harry said, and Rose only wondered why he hadn't said that ages ago as the memory disappeared around them at long last.**

 **END OF FLASHBACK**

* * *

She was in his arms, a sobbing, bawling, blubbering mess. Uncle Harry just held her and rocked her as she cried, like he had when she was a baby.

"Does... does she still have that... sc...?" Rose couldn't finish saying the word scar, as she became hysterical.

Harry sighed heavily. "Yes. The knife had Dark Magic in it. After the final battle, your dad and I spent weeks trying to remove it. Nothing we did worked. Eventually, your father decided to view it as a badge of honor."

Rose gasped, as she made a connection she never had before. "I've seen Daddy kissing along Mummy's arm! She loves it when he does that; says it makes her feel beautiful."

Harry smiled. "That's right." He looked down at her curiously. "But... you mean to tell me you've never actually _seen_ the scar?"

Rose shook her head. :"N... no."

Harry frowned. "Hermione probably put a Concealment Charm on it, then."

"It... it would be like yours, wouldn't it? Your lightning scar." Rose touched a finger to it. "That has Dark Magic behind it." She suddenly gave a watery snigger. "Have _you_ ever tried a Concealment Charm on it?"

Harry grinned back conspiratorially. "Oh, I've tried to. Your aunt won't let me." They both laughed, but it ended far too quickly.

"That... _monster_!" Rose gnashed, as hot, angry tears burned her eyes anew. "Please tell me she's dead!"

"She is," Harry soothed. "Jumped right to the top of my hit list, but your Grandma Weasley beat me to the punch."

Rose laughed. "Justice!"

"Damn straight," Harry snarled. "Even my forgiveness has its limits, Rosie. I will never... _never_ forgive Bellatrix Lestrange for what she did to your mom." And Rose was touched to see tears swimming behind his emerald green eyes.

And with that name, Rose suddenly realized where she had seen the wily black-haired witch before. In another one of her uncle's memories. "You... you _spoke_ to her! The night my parents lost their first baby!" A sharp intake of breath. "Is that what you meant when you said the miscarriage and the Manor were linked? That the Cruciatus Curse negatively affected Mummy's ability to have children?"

"The thought had occurred to me, yes," Harry admitted. He quickly qualified. "It was just a guess. A theory. But unfortunately, it seemed to hold for a bloody long while. Your parents tried so long to have you... they waited _forever_ for you. Luckily, my little hypothesis seemed to snap when your mummy got pregnant with Hugo when you were only about two years old. Even then, though, that second round was a difficult pregnancy. Very difficult." Uncle Harry wiped at his eyes.

Rose frowned. "Is that why my dad hates Scorpius so much? Because his dad watched Mummy being tortured and did nothing?"

Uncle Harry cleared his throat. "Well, your parents and I and Mr. Malfoy were enemies in school, but... that's why, honey. That's why." He held her gaze. "Talk to Ron. Tell him you understand why he feels that way, and tell him how you'll feel. I know he'll meet you halfway, and you guys will work through it." He finally sent a weak smile in Rose's direction. "You want to see a happy memory?"

"Please," Rose croaked.

* * *

 **FLASHBACK**

Hermione Granger was sitting by the fireplace in the Gryffindor Common Room, her nose classically buried in a book. Suddenly, Ron seemed to appear from nowhere, and the book fell from her lap as she gasped.

"Ron!" She ran into his arms and when she kissed him, Rose knew that this had to be after the Battle of Hogwarts. "What are you doing here? It's _dangerous_! If the prefects catch you... how did you get in?"

Ron smirked. "How do you think, love? Our best mate, and a special Cloak."

Hermione gaped. "Is he here?"

"No, he should be gone by now. Oi, mate! You gone yet?" There was no answer, but Rose could clearly see that a young Harry - right beside her and her uncle under the Invisibility Cloak - hadn't moved.

Hermione smiled affectionately. "I gotta love that man..." she murmured. Giggling, she pulled Ron onto the couch, prattling on. "I'm loving all my classes, and the rebuilding of the castle is going well. Professor McGonagall thinks I could sit my N.E.W.T.S early, but I don't think I want to do that... Hmmm..." Her voice was cut off as Ron kissed her deeply on the lips.

"Less talking, more snogging," he murmured. Then he pulled her onto his lap, so that she was straddling his hips. Hermione framed Ron's face in her hands as she kissed him back. Soon, Ron was peppering kisses along her cheeks and jawline. Hermione's eyes rolled into the back of her head as her eyelids fluttered closed, and she moaned encouragement. Aroused, she guided Ron's calloused hands to her breasts. Hermione gave a throaty chuckle as Ron's kisses worked their way down her windpipe.

"I would think you would be more experienced, love... Touching a woman..."

Ron's eyes snapped to hers, besotted and blackened with love and lust. "I intend to only sleep with the woman I marry!"

Hermione gasped airily, and she rolled her hips into Ron insistently. Reverently, Ron began to undress her, even as he palmed her breasts. Hermione helped him get her white blouse off with a flourish. Hermione's hands disappeared into Ron's hair, as his hands splayed across her bare back, unhooking her bra. Rolling her to the side, Ron gently thumbed back the lace of her panties, cast her skirt to the floor.

And then he slipped inside of her. Hermione threw her head back into the plush seat with a groan. She squeezed her thighs around his middle, drawing him closer, snapping her pelvis up to match him thrust for thrust.

"Uh... Huhhh... uh, uh, uh!" she whimpered. Finally with a sigh, she came apart all around him. Ron slammed into her a few more times before spilling into her with a grunt. Beaming, he kissed Hermione's lips lightly, matching the tender look she gave him.

By the light of the moon, under a blanket that Hermione conjured, the couple held each other, naked as babies, tracing patterns along each other's skin.

"I can't believe you snuck all the way in here with the Cloak..." Hermione murmured.

"You're just lucky I didn't try Apparating in," Ron huffed.

She peered at him, amused, her head on his chest. "You can't take it back now. You've exposed yourself. You've been pining for me."

Ron chuckled low and deep. "I have _not_ been pining," he rumbled dryly.

"I'm your Fleur Delacour."

"Merlin help me," he groaned at her teasing. A small pause and then: "OK. Let's get something out of the way right now." Reaching behind him, he grabbed a roll of parchment and quill. "Tell me... all the books I have to read so I don't have to hear about them."

Hermione gawked in mock offense and amusement. "Really?" She giggled and snuggled back into his chest, her face beaming. "This has been a great date!"

"Only took us seven years to get here." The couple kissed chastely once, then again. "OK, so: what's first? And don't say all the volumes of _Hogwarts: A History_. I draw the line at _Hogwarts: A History..._ "

"OK, well, _Magical Theory_ by Adalbert Waffling, that's a must. And... _A History of Magic_ by Bathilda Bagshot..."

"Let's go," Uncle Harry murmured, and he and Rose left the memory.

 **END OF FLASHBACK**

* * *

The minute they landed on the floor of the study again, Rose hit Uncle Harry on the arm. "You watched my parents _shag_ , perv!"

Harry smirked. "Well, your aunt sure as bloody hell wasn't giving me any! She was at Hogwarts at that time, and we also happened to be in the middle of a row. Besides... I wanted to make sure your dad was good to Hermione."

"Uh-huh," Rose wasn't convinced. But her eyes were twinkling.


	11. Chapter 11: Final Report

**Chapter 11: Final Report**

Rose Weasley stood up in front of her entire History of Magic class.

"Most of you all know who Harry Potter is. He means something special to each and every one of us. But he holds special significance to me: Harry Potter is my Uncle Harry. He's my godfather, my mom and dad's best friend. When my uncle was growing up... his Muggle relatives abused him. But despite that, Uncle Harry gives out more love than anyone else I know. He adores my mummy and daddy, and has helped them so much throughout the years. He once even snuck my dad into the castle so he could see my mom!" She grinned shyly, pleased at how Scorpius laughed. Albus looked shocked that his dad was such a daredevil. "But the thing that makes Uncle Harry amazing... is his power to forgive. And that he never gives up on you. _Ever_."

Needless to say, Rose passed her History of Magic N.E.W.T. with flying colors.


End file.
